


Fifteen Ways To Say I Love You

by wilderwestqueen



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cute, F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-14
Updated: 2016-03-14
Packaged: 2018-05-26 14:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6242401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wilderwestqueen/pseuds/wilderwestqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Maybe he has been saying it and you just haven’t been listening.”<br/>“What’s that supposed to mean?”<br/>“I just mean that you’ve been waiting for him to say a certain set of words,” Heather says. “A very specific set of words. Have you ever thought that there’s more than one way to say it?” </p><p>Astrid's boyfriend is pretty much perfect. There's just one problem. Why hasn't he said 'I love you' yet?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fifteen Ways To Say I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> Also posted on fanfic.net under QueenoftheWilderwest.

“Alright, what’s he done now?”  
  
Astrid casts an eye up from where her chin is slumped atop her arms that rest on the bar surface.  
  
“How d’you know he’s done anything?”  
  
“Plain as day,” Heather scoffs, taking a rag to a dirty beer glass. “Come on, my shift ends in half an hour, I ain’t got all day.”  
  
Astrid lets out an elongated sigh before dropping her face back down onto her arm pillow. “I just thought he’d say it by now.”  
  
“What’s that?” Heather says, taking Astrid’s glass, refilling it and sliding it across the bar towards her.  
  
Astrid accepts it gratefully, before giving another sigh and sitting up properly. “I just thought he’d have said it by now. We’ve been dating for a year now. Is it something to do with me?”  
  
Heather stares at the girl for a few moments, before tipping her head back and laughing. “That’s what the great Astrid Hofferson is worried about?” she says, her shoulders still shaking as the giggles subside.  
  
Astrid’s head slumps back down onto the bar. “This is why I didn’t tell you.”  
  
Heather wipes a tear from her eye, leans over across the bar and rests her hands on Astrid’s shoulders, pulling her up and out of her slump.  
  
“Astrid, I’m laughing because if there’s anything certain in this universe, it’s that Hiccup is in love with you. I’m pretty sure it was written in the stars before the Earth was even a speck on the big old dude’s plan. If the clouds could write messages, the sky would be lit up with the words ‘Hiccup Is in Love with Astrid’ Every. Goddamn. Day.”  
  
“Alright, I get it,” Astrid grumbles. “So why hasn’t he said it yet?”  
  
Heather shrugs, taking her rag to the surface of the bar. “Maybe he has been saying it and you just haven’t been listening.”  
  
“What’s that supposed to mean?”  
  
“I just mean that you’ve been waiting for him to say a certain set of words,” Heather says. “A very specific set of words. Have you ever thought that there’s more than one way to say it?”  
  
Astrid raises her head slightly and stares up at her friend.  
  
“Just think about it, yeah?” Heather says, her eyes sparkling a little. “Now, stop moping. As soon as I’m done here, we’re gonna go back to my place, drink way too much than we should and marathon some awful reality television show.”  
  
For the first time in the last half an hour, a smile spreads across Astrid’s face. “Now you’re talking my language,” she says, downing the rest of her drink.

* * *

Predictably, Astrid drinks way too much, wakes up with a stinking hangover and completely forgets about the conversation she’d had the night before with Heather, or at least not until a week later when she’s yet again griping over the fact that Hiccup hasn’t said it yet.  
  
It’s in the small hours of the morning, she’s driving back to her flat after a god-awful amount of time spent in the university library, and she’s so tired that she’s finding it hard to fight the impulse to let her head droop right onto the steering wheel. It’s a wonder she doesn’t crash the car.  
  
As always when Astrid hasn’t had enough sleep, she finds herself getting overly frustrated and irritated with things that wouldn’t bother as much in a completely awake state. While she drives, she recounts numerous conversations that she’s had with Hiccup, thinking about all the times he could have said those three words, and she starts grinding her teeth, muttering things under her breath about what an idiot that boy is.  
  
And then the car stops moving.  
  
It takes her a little longer than it normally would to realise what’s going on, but as soon as she notices that her tank is completely empty, she bends her head forward and groans into the steering wheel.  
  
Usually, Astrid prides herself on being as rational and as well-balanced as possible, but she’s running on very little sleep, she’s stuck in the middle of nowhere, miles away from home and it’s almost three o’clock in the morning, so before she can stop herself, her shoulders are shaking and she’s sobbing onto her hands.  
  
She gathers herself together just enough to pull her phone out of her pocket and make a call to the only person she wants to see.  
  
“Astrid, you okay?” His voice is low and sleepy, and all at once Astrid feels guilty – about bothering him at this time and about being angry at him. She can feel tears in her eyes again and she brushes them away furiously, because she is Astrid Hofferson, for goodness sake.  
  
She explains to him what happened, and as she does she can feel something in her throat, and curses herself for letting herself get in such a state. She expects Hiccup to sigh or to moan a little about the trouble.  
  
He doesn’t.  
  
“Stay there, I’m coming to get you,” he says, his voice more alert than before.  
  
Astrid smiles a little as she ends the call and tucks her legs up onto the seat, wrapping her arms around them, letting her eyes fall shut. She’s woken up half an hour later, when she hears tapping on her window.  
  
It’s Hiccup, his green eyes sparkling as he smiles down at her.  
  
“Hey, sleepyhead,” he says, as she opens the door. “You okay?”  
  
She nods and accepts his hand, resting her head onto his shoulder. “Sorry,” she mumbles.  
  
Hiccup waves it off. “Happens to the best of us.”  
  
They get into Hiccup’s car, and Astrid curls up into the passenger seat, her shoulders hunched, half embarrassed about crying and half too tired to care.  
  
“Sorry,” she says again. “Sorry, I woke you up. You didn’t have to come all the way out here.”  
  
“Don’t be silly,” Hiccup says.  
  
They don’t really talk much more, Astrid’s exhausted and can barely put two words together. As Hiccup drives, she watches him out of the corner of eye, the clock on the dashboard lighting up his face.  
  
All at once, the conversation that she’d had with Heather floods back to her, and the words ‘ _Stay there, I’m coming to get you_ ,’ start to repeat through her head.  
  
In the morning, when they’ve returned to her car, filled it with petrol and Astrid’s driving home, she resolves to be more observant.

* * *

When Astrid gets to the door, she groans.  
  
She’s been hidden away in the library again, way off into the silent section where there were very few windows. She’s been going slightly crazy at the sound of silence, and she had no idea that outside the heavens had opened, sending down a torrent of rain of the likes that could turn the whole university campus into a lake.  
  
She had not factored the weather in when she’d got dressed this morning, and with a quick glance down at the jumper, skirt and tights combination, she sighs as she realises that she’s so not prepared to go out in this weather. She’d braided her hair so nicely today as well. _And_ she’s supposed to be going on a date with Hiccup. Who wants to sit across from someone who looks like a drowned rat?  
  
She hovers in the doorway, two seconds away from gritting her teeth and running out into the horrible weather, when someone outside calls her name, running towards her.  
  
Hiccup rushes into the door, dripping onto the library floor.  
  
“Hey,” Astrid says, unable to stop the smile from spreading across her face. “What are you doing here? I thought we were meeting in town?”  
  
“We were,” Hiccup says, shaking his wet hair out of his eyes and holding an umbrella up to her. “I just wasn’t sure if you had a coat or anything, so I brought you an umbrella.”  
  
Astrid’s grin gets wider as she takes it from him. “Hiccup, you are amazing.”  
  
Hiccup smiles, his hand going to the back of his head and his eyes focusing down onto the floor. “Just didn’t want you to get wet, that’s all.”  
  
She puts an arm around his shoulder and presses a kiss to his hair. “Don’t sell yourself short. C’mon, let’s go.”  
  
They wander out into the rain together, their fingers touching as they hold up the umbrella and shield themselves from the weather.

* * *

It takes Astrid a while to decide.  
  
She stands in front of the glass, examining every single cake and muffin, searching for the one with that looks like it would taste the best. She’d happily stare there all day to decide, but there’s a queue forming behind her, people coughing and tapping their feet, and the cashier’s rolling her eyes, so she just points at the biggest muffin she can see and hands over the money.  
  
Astrid’s been in a few tight spots lately – the car, the rain – and every time Hiccup had showed up and helped her out, so she decided that it was time to do something for him too. So, before she gets to his house one morning she stops off at a bakery on the way to find something for her sweet-toothed boyfriend.  
  
“Hey,” she says, and greets him with a kiss when she arrives at his door. “I got you something.”

It’s worth it just for the way his face lights up. “For me?” he says, when he takes the muffin from her.  
  
“Of course for you, silly,” she says, ruffling his hair. “You keep doing things for me, so I thought I’d do something for you.”  
  
“You didn’t have to!”  
  
“‘Course I didn’t,” Astrid says. “But I did anyway.”  
  
Hiccup grins and dives in. After two bites, he looks back up at Astrid.  
  
“Here,” he says, breaking some of it off. “You can have half.”  
  
“Nah, it’s yours.”  
  
“No,” Hiccup says, getting closer. “I want you to have half.”  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“Yeah.” He grins. “What’s the point in your awesome girlfriend buying you a muffin if you can’t share it with her?”  
  
She doesn’t reply, just takes the piece from him, smiles, and in her head she thinks – _reason number three_.

* * *

“Okay, what’s happening here?”  
  
Hiccup has let himself into the apartment again, and Astrid feels guilty - he’s probably been knocking for ages, but she’s been blaring loud music and lying face down in the floor, a position that’s become embarrassingly all too frequent since she’s started university.  
  
He turns the music off, and Astrid groans.  
  
“Turn it back on,” she mumbles into the floor. “It’s the only thing keeping me sane.”  
  
He doesn’t comply, and she hears him shuffle down and sit cross-legged beside her, a hand on her shoulder.  
  
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice soft and gentle.  
  
“Oh, nothing. Just that I can’t get a single goddamn thing to go in my brain and I’m going to fail everything and have to drop out.”  
  
It’s supposed to be flippant, just a joke, but she can’t help the hint of frustration and upset that leaks through.  
  
“Okay,” Hiccup says. “Come on. Sit up.”  
  
He pulls her up gently, so that they’re both sitting opposite each other. Astrid sticks her lower lip out and faces away from him.  
  
“Number one,” Hiccup says, firmly. “You are not going to fail, and you’re not going to drop out. Number two, you’ve been putting way to many hours into work and you haven’t been getting enough sleep, so for the rest of tonight, we’re going to relax.”  
  
“Don’t tell me what to do,” Astrid mumbles, but the petulant act is getting old, so she smiles afterwards to let him know she doesn’t mean it.  
  
“Number three,” Hiccup says. “I’ll help you study. You don’t have to lock yourself in your room or the library, it’s not healthy.”  
  
Astrid smiles, leans forward and rests her forehead on Hiccup’s. “Thanks,” she says, quietly. “Sorry for being a dick.”  
  
Hiccup grins. “You? Never.”  
  
She pokes him at that, and it turns into an all-out poking war, the two of them rolling around together and giggling. The next day, he shows up and helps her study.

* * *

Astrid knows there’s a problem the moment she walks in the door.  
  
Normally, Hiccup’s there to meet her with a smile on his face and a billion things to talk about. But when Astrid wanders through the doorway, there’s nothing but the sound of the clock on the wall. Hiccup’s cat, Toothless, mews at her feet, and she bends down and scratching behind his ears.  
  
“Where’s Hiccup, eh?” she says to the cat.  
  
The cat blinks his big green eyes and then turns around, moving toward the kitchen. Astrid’s a hundred per cent sure that cat fully understands the English language, and everything he does only proves her right.  
  
As she gets to the door, she hears Hiccup’s strained voice, muttering something she can’t hear. Astrid’s heart sinks a little. She knows that voice.  
  
When she enters the kitchen, there is Hiccup, sitting on a stool and talking into the phone, his hand clasped in his hair. His head jerks upwards when the door opens, and he sends her a small, sad wave.  
  
“Sorry, Dad. I’m trying,” he says, his voice miles away from its usual bright, cheerful sound. “I know. Okay. I’m sorry. Yeah. Bye.”  
  
The call finishes and Hiccup puts the phone back onto the receiver, running a hand through his hair. Astrid hops up onto the stool beside him.  
  
“He doesn’t deserve you,” she says.  
  
Hiccup’s fingers curl around the edge of the stool. “He’s right.”  
  
“No,” Astrid says, fiercely, one hand down on Hiccup’s. “He is not. If he can’t see that he’s got to the best person in the world for a son, then he doesn’t deserve you.”  
  
“Thanks,” Hiccup mutters, shifting forward and resting his head on Astrid’s shoulder.  
  
They sit in silence for a while, because Astrid knows that’s what he needs right now.  
  
“I think you’re the best person in the world, too,” Hiccup says, and then blushes.  
  
Astrid laughs. “You’re a dork.”  
  
“Yeah,” he says. “I know.”

* * *

This was becoming an all too common occurrence for Astrid.  
  
She’d made a switch from working in the library to working at home – driving home from the library late at night had proven time and time again to be bad idea – and this meant that she was staying up a lot later. Astrid had essay after essay to write and deadlines were far too close.  
  
Essays are hard. Astrid’s smart, she knows that, and her grades from other semesters are more than enough proof that she _can_ write essays and that she _can_ do really well.  
But when she’s sitting in front of a laptop with nothing but a blank screen, her fingers hovering over the keys, her brain having trouble forming sentences, her past successes pretty much mean nothing.  
  
Astrid’s fingers quiver as she reaches for a can of energy drink – yet another mistake, she thinks, because stress and energy drink never go well together, but she has to finish this essay before the morning so her choices are limited. Her heart is beating way too fast for someone sitting in a stationary position, something she knows is probably a problem, but it’s not really her concern right now.  
  
Why can’t she write this essay?!  
  
She has all the information. It’s right there in front of her, her books open, all of the quotes highlighted. She knows exactly how to frame an essay. She knows exactly how to cite her sources and form a bibliography.  
  
So why can’t she do it? Why is nothing going in?  
  
It’s not long before she’s breathing heavily, too fast, way faster than normal. She backs away from her laptop and wanders into the kitchen, bending over the sink. All that’s running through her mind is the hand in date, 12pm tomorrow afternoon. Any later and her grade will be lowered. Her word count is in the hundreds and she needs several thousands. Oh, God. She can’t do this. It’s not physically possible for her to do this. She’s done it. She’s finally fucked up. She’s going to fail her course. No. Astrid ‘Perfect’ Hofferson can’t fail. What would her parents think?  
  
Her skin feels too hot, her breath caught in her throat. How do you breathe again? She doesn’t remember. She doesn’t remember how to breathe. Fuck. Okay. She takes a step back into the living room and crouches down into a corner, wrapping her arms around her legs and pressing her face into her knees. If she can make herself as small as possible, maybe she’ll disappear, and she won’t have to worry about this essay business.  
  
“Astrid?”  
  
Fuck. When did Hiccup come in? He can’t see her like this. Not when she’s struggling to breathe. Not when she feels like she’s about to die.  
  
This isn’t like the last time he’d found her stressing out over work, when she was wearing her problems on her sleeve and being petulant just to prove a point. This was scary and horrible, she was struggling to breathe, and she really didn’t need him to see her in this vulnerable state.  
  
“Hey, Astrid, can I put my hand on your shoulder?”  
  
She recognises his calm and levelled voice. He’s dealt with panic attacks before. Of course he has.  
  
Just barely lifting her head from her knees, she nods. The warmth of his hand is an ever so slight comfort.  
  
“What brought this on?”  
  
She takes a deep breath, knowing that when she opens her mouth, she won’t be able to keep it steady. “I can’t write this essay. It’s in for tomorrow.”  
  
“Okay,” he says. “Do you want some water?”  
  
She nods again.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
And then the warmth on her shoulder disappears, and she hears him padding off to the kitchen, running the tap.  
  
When he comes back, he hands her a glass. She shifts her head up to look at him, and sees his wide green eyes, blinking with concern. The water’s cold, and it slips down easier than she thought it would.  
  
“Take a few deep breaths,” Hiccup says, and she does, and finally, finally, she can feel herself levelling out. Her hands still shake, but she can breathe properly again.  
Astrid closes her eyes and let’s herself breathe, until she feels are little bit closer to normal.  
  
“Thanks, Hiccup,” she says. “Sorry.”  
  
His hand is on her shoulder again. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Alright, you take a break, you can’t work in this state. Then we’ll look at this essay.”  
  
Hiccup fixes her up with another glass of water and something to eat, before sitting down in her work chair and looking over her notes.  
  
“When did you say this was in for?” he asks.  
  
“12.”  
  
Hiccup nods, and then he smiles. “This is okay. We can fix this.”  
  
Of course he can, because he’s Hiccup, and he fixes everything.  
  
It takes her some time, but she manages to calm down, and slowly but surely she works through the essay with Hiccup’s help.  
  
It’s done and handed in by 12 o’clock the next day, no bother.

* * *

The day after the whole essay debacle, Astrid stays in bed the whole day. It’s on Hiccup’s request, but it’s not like she would have protested – she hadn’t had any sleep the night before, and somewhere between writing the essay and handing it in she’d started to have detailed fantasies about slipping into clean sheets, wrapping up in her duvet and falling fast asleep.  
  
She spent the day in a doze, falling in and out of sleep and staying in bed for way longer than she ever would on a normal weekend. It’s about ten o’clock in the evening when she finally gets out of bed, her stomach rumbling.  
  
Hiccup’s out in her living room, working on something on his laptop.  
  
“Have you been here all day?” she says, stifling a yawn.  
  
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Hiccup says. “Yeah, I wanted to be here to make sure you were okay.”  
  
Astrid smiles and shakes her head, dropping herself down on the seat beside him. “I’m fine. You didn’t have to do that.”  
  
Hiccup shrugs. “I wanted to.”  
  
“What did you even do all day?”  
  
“Worked on some assignments and stuff. Oh, and I did the dishes for you, so you don’t have to bother,” he says.  
  
Astrid’s eyes bug out. She hops off the chair and hurries to the kitchen, and sure enough, where there had been a dozen dirty plates stacked haphazardly up on the counter, it’s now spotless and sparkling.  
  
“Hiccup…” Astrid says, backing out of the kitchen. She turns to where Hiccup has just stood up, marches over and wraps her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder. “What did I do to deserve you?”  
  
“You didn’t have to do anything,” Hiccup mumbles, and Astrid pulls him closer.  
  
In that moment, she’s so close to saying the three words herself.

* * *

“Are you sure you want to throw down the gauntlet, Haddock?” Astrid says. “When I play Mario Kart, I play to fucking win.”  
  
Hiccup cocks an eyebrow. “You know you’re talking to a Mario Kart champion, right?”  
  
The corner of Astrid’s lips quirk and her eyes glitter. “You haven’t seen me play.”  
  
“Like you could beat me.”  
  
“Oh, Haddock. It’s so on.”  
  
They throw themselves onto the sofa and take their controllers in hand. Astrid’s knuckles turn white with the force that she grips it with. There’s no way she’s letting Hiccup beat her.  
  
An hour and a half later and Astrid’s cackling with glee. She’s the Mario Kart QUEEN, and she’s throwing out banana peels and shells like she was born to play this. Next to her, Hiccup is getting increasingly more frustrated, shaking the controller violently. It’s not long before he throws the controller onto the floor.  
  
“I give up,” Hiccup says, lying back on the sofa. “You’re some kind of a monster.”  
  
“YES!” Astrid screeches, brandishing the controller up in the air like a trophy. “Do you relinquish your Mario Kart crown?”  
  
“I relinquish my crown.”  
  
“YES!” Astrid says, again. “I’m the motherfucking Mario Kart QUEEN!”  
  
Hiccup glances at her and laughs. “Alright, your majesty,” he says, bending down onto one knee on the floor. “Do you accept me as your humble steward?”  
  
Astrid thinks for a moment and then nods, pretending touching him over each shoulder with the controller. “I dub thee my Knight, partner in all things Mario Kart.”  
  
Hiccup bows his head. “I am honoured.”  
  
The two of them break into laughter and fall back onto the sofa, still giggling. When they finally stop, Astrid lifts her head.  
  
“Netflix?”  
  
“Astrid, you speak my language.”  
  
“I’m picking the show.”  
  
“Well,” he says. “You are the motherfucking Mario Kart Queen.”  
  
Astrid grins. “I’m glad you understand.”  
  
They watch Netflix until they’re both falling asleep, cuddled up together. For once, it’s Hiccup who seems more tired than Astrid, and he rests his head on her stomach. She wraps her arm around his shoulders and runs her fingers through his hair.  
  
“You’re so warm,” he mumbles.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“Yeah,” he says. “It’s nice.”  
  
The next day, they wake up tangled together with cramp and aching limbs.

* * *

Astrid shivers, and shrouds herself in a blanket, stretching out for a mug of hot chocolate and holding it close to her face. How is it possible for her to be wearing so many layers and still be freezing? She swears as soon as her head stops feeling like a vacant fog and her nose feels less like it’s stuffed with cotton wool, she’s going right out to find the fresher that coughed on her and kill them.  
  
Every year. Every year she’s adamant that she’s not going to catch Fresher’s Flu, and every year she’s proved wrong.  
  
She inches forward to put the mug down onto the table and as she does so, lapses into a coughing fit. Mucus fills up her throat and she tries to pull out a tissue to catch it all, but only manages to spill hot chocolate everywhere. Goddamn it.  
  
With a groan, she leans forward and heaves herself up off the sofa towards the kitchen to grab herself some paper towels.  
  
She doesn’t make it, and ends up in a heap on her living room floor.  
  
“Why…” she moans to no one in particular.  
  
She stays face down on the floor for a few moments when she hears her phone buzzing on the coffee table. After making a few noises and reaching out her arm just to make sure that, no, she couldn’t reach it from the floor, she pulls herself up off the floor and back to the sofa, phone in hand.  
  
“Hiccup, I’m dying,” she says in lieu of a hello.  
  
On the other side of the phone, Hiccup laughs. “ _I’m sure you’ll be fine._ ”  
  
“Nope,” she mutters. “Definitely dying.”  
  
“ _Sorry. Dad was pretty insistent that I come home for the weekend. Though if you’re feeling really bad, I could come home early?_ ”  
  
“No,” Astrid says immediately, her voice shifting back into its normal tone. “No, no, I’m fine. Don’t come back just for me.”  
  
“ _Are you sure you’re alright there on your own?_ ”  
  
“I’m fine. It’s probably good that you’re there and I’m here. Wouldn’t want you to get sick,” she says.  
  
“ _Yeah, but I feel bad for leaving you there alone_.”  
  
“I’m a grown woman, Hiccup! I can take care of myself! It’s not like I’ve been lying on the floor or spilling hot chocolate everywhere!”  
  
“ _…You spilled hot chocolate everywhere, didn’t you?_ ”  
  
“Not the point!”  
  
“ _Alright, Astrid. I gotta go. Just drink plenty of water, and don’t try and do too much, yeah?_ ”  
  
“You got it.”  
  
“ _And seriously, if you need anything, call me. I’ll send someone over, or I’ll come home myself_.”  
  
“I promise.”  
  
The call ends.  
  
Astrid snuggles into her blanket and sighs. Even with Hiccup back home, she still feels like he’s looking out for her. She knows that she’s not going to call him – she can look after herself, and she’ll be damned if he goes to a bunch of trouble and ruins his weekend for her.  
  
Still, it’s nice to know that she’s got someone who she can always count on.

* * *

It’s been a while since Astrid’s danced.  
  
It’s not like she really ever meant to stop – not that she ever could truly stop; she often found herself twirling around her room in relevé, or doing pirouettes in the kitchen while she waited for food – but university work had taken up all of her time and she had to stop going to her classes for a little while.  
  
But now that most of her work for the term is done, she’s back in classes again, holding onto the bar while the teacher yells out complicated French terms for moves that she can only just remember. Despite the fact that her instructor is constantly screaming at her for stronger arms, Astrid finds herself fitting back into class with relative ease. She’s missed this.  
  
Though she hasn’t been back in class for very long, she finds herself auditioning for the showcase, and being awarded a solo in the show alongside all of her group parts. She’s thrilled, but the choreography is difficult, she’s out of dance shape and she’s only got a small amount of time to learn it.  
  
Hiccup finds her in her living room, the coffee table and sofa pushed back, while she’s standing in the middle of the room, practicing turns.  
  
“You’re getting better,” Hiccup comments as he puts his bag down on a chair and shuffles into the kitchen, pouring out two glasses of water.  
  
“Still not good enough,” Astrid says, pointing her toe and doing as many fouetté turns as possible, paying extra attention to her technique.  
  
Hiccup glances down at her feet. “Should you even be doing that on this floor?”  
  
“Nope,” she mutters as she slows down to a stop. “Where else am I going to practice?”  
  
She’s slightly breathless, and Hiccup hands her a glass.  
  
“You’re not stressing out about this, are you?” Hiccup says, narrowing his eyes at her while she gulps down water.  
  
“No.”  
  
“Astrid.”  
  
She sighs. “It’s the winter showcase! There are going to be tons of people there, I can’t mess up.”  
  
“You won’t mess up, I’ve seen you dance hundreds of times,” Hiccup says, sitting down beside her on the sofa.  
  
“I haven’t danced in ages.”  
  
“And I swear, nobody in that show will practice as hard as you.”  
  
Astrid bows her head and gives another sigh. “I just want to do the best that I can.”  
  
“And you will,” Hiccup says. “Just… don’t stress yourself out about it, yeah?”  
  
“Yeah.”  
  
A week or so later, she’s waiting in the dressing room, carefully going over the steps. Her hair is curled up into a french twist, like a golden crown resting atop her head. One of the other dance girls has been at her with a make-up brush to make her look ‘fresh-faced’ or something like that – “What’s wrong with the way I do make-up?” she had asked, and got a raised eyebrow and a scoff in reply.  
  
She keeps one eye on the clock, unable to stop her heart from beating harder when she realises how soon it is until she’s on stage.  
  
Just as she’s about to leave for the wings, Hiccup shows up at the door.  
  
She can’t help the grin that spreads across her face when she sees him there. “You’re not supposed to be here,” she says, her eyes sparkling.  
  
“You look amazing,” he says, his gaze fixed on her.  
  
“Eyes up, Haddock,” she mutters, but she’s smiling.  
  
They get closer, Hiccup’s fingers curling between hers. “You’re going to be amazing,” he says.  
  
They inch closer still, lips almost touching –  
  
“No, no! Absolutely not!”  
  
It’s the dancer from earlier, waving her hands manically and stepping in between the two of them. “No!” she shrieks, jabbing a finger into Hiccup’s chest. “You are not ruining all of my fine work!”  
  
They step back, Astrid holding back giggles while Hiccup looks bewildered.  
  
“You’re onstage in ten minutes, get to the wings!” she says, shoving Astrid out the door.  
  
As she leaves, she can hear the other girl scalding Hiccup and she has to stifle a laugh with her hand when she hears Hiccup’s awkward excuses.  
  
By the time they’re announcing her name and she’s forgotten to be nervous.  
  
It’s a beautiful performance. She hits all of her turns and manages a flawless aerial walkover, earning her a huge round of applause from the crowd.  
  
When the show is over, Hiccup runs backstage and pulls Astrid into his arms.  
  
“Knew you’d be amazing,” he says.

* * *

In this moment, Astrid thinks there’s nothing better than waking with the sun streaming through the windows, Hiccup’s arms around her, their legs tangled together. With the majority of their deadlines over and their obligations at a minimum, the two of them had been spending more and more time together, and Hiccup had been sleeping over more often than he hadn’t.  
  
He’s incredibly warm, and Astrid’s reluctant to leave, but when she glances over at her alarm clock, she realises she’s got half an hour until she has to leave for class. Why, oh, why couldn’t class have finished when deadlines were over?  
  
“Hey, Hiccup,” she says, flicking him in the nose. “Get up.”  
  
All she receives in response is a long groan.  
  
“I have class.”  
  
“Five more minutes.”  
  
“Hiiiiicccccccup,” she whines, but the only response she gets this time is Hiccup’s arms wrapped even tighter around her.  
  
“But you’re so comfortable,” he says.  
  
Astrid sighs, and snuggles back down into the bed, resting her head in the crook of Hiccup’s neck.  
  
Class can wait.

* * *

Astrid hates long car journeys.  
  
She’d always romanticised road trips in books and movies - the kind where two people would go on adventures and fall in love – but in reality, she hated being confined to a seat, strapped in and unable to move for a good few hours. Not to mention the car sickness. She’d never been physically sick during a car ride, but she got horrible headaches and always felt terribly nauseous.  
  
Riding home for the winter holidays is Astrid’s idea of a nightmare. The journey’s between three and four hours, the roads are icy and dangerous, and her car isn’t exactly the most comfortable in the world.  
  
The only upside is Hiccup. Astrid knows full well how lucky she is that her university boyfriend happens to live in the same town as she does – she doesn’t know a single couple that share that luxury – and right now, she appreciates it more than anything.  
  
“Artemis,” Astrid says, her gaze fixed on the road, concentrating hard to make sure the car doesn’t slip on any ice.  
  
Hiccup thinks for a moment. “Sisyphus.”  
  
“Scylla,” Astrid says, as she checks her mirror and turns a corner.  
  
“Athena.”  
  
“Apollo.”  
  
He chews on his lip in thought before clicking his fingers. “Odysseus!”  
  
It’s a game they always like to play in long car journeys. It’s simple – one of them says a name and then the other has to say a name that starts with the last letter. It’s a game that Astrid’s parents used to play with her as a child to stop her from whining of boredom. Astrid likes it now because it distracts her from car sickness, and they play it with names from different mythologies, because let’s face it, both of them are nerds.  
  
Astrid scrunches her face together while she thinks, but nothing comes to mind. “Alright, you win,” she mutters, reluctantly. “Pick another mythology.”  
  
“Norse,” Hiccup says, and Astrid rolls her eyes.  
  
“Nerd.”  
  
“Thor,” Hiccup says.  
  
“Obvious choice,” Astrid says. “Ragnarok.”  
  
“Kara.”  
  
Astrid narrows her eyes.  
  
“She was one of the Valkyries.”  
  
“If you say so,” she mutters, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel. There’s a pause, and then she grins. “Astrild.”  
  
Hiccup blinks.  
  
“Goddess of love, Hiccup. Keep up.”  
  
“Oh,” he says, staring over at her. “That’s not very fitting.”  
  
She frowns. “What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean that if you were a goddess, you’d obviously be a warrior,” Hiccup says.  
  
She tips back her head and lets out a laugh. “Good answer, Haddock.”  
  
The conversation dies a little as the game fizzles out and Astrid keeps her eyes on the road, still trying hard to make sure the car doesn’t slip. Ice and wheels were never meant to meet. Her fingers are curled tight around the steering wheel.  
  
The glare from the sun makes her eyes squint, and she can feel a headache forming. Something lurches in her throat, and all at once her stomach is flipping over. Ugh, she thinks. Not now.  
  
“Hey, Hiccup?” she says, her voice lower than before. “Do you think we could play the name game again?”  
  
Hiccup’s no fool. He narrows his eyes at her and shifts in his seat. “Are you feeling sick?”  
  
Astrid shrugs.  
  
“Pull over, let me drive,” he says.  
  
“I’ve only been going for an hour,” she mutters. “I’ll power through it.”  
  
“Seriously, Astrid, if you keep driving it’ll only get worse. Let me drive,” Hiccup says, and Astrid scowls. She knows he’s right.  
  
When they pass a service station, Astrid pulls in and gets out the car. Of course, the moment her feet touch the ground, the queasiness starts to go away. After a quick toilet break, she slips into the passenger seat, kicks off her shoes and curls up into the chair, navigating her way around the seatbelt.  
  
Hiccup smiles. “You comfortable there?”  
  
“Yup,” she mumbles.  
  
It’s not long before she falls asleep.

* * *

Hiccup went back to university earlier than Astrid did. Toothless hadn’t come home with him, and though he’d left the cat in the care of his neighbours, he was reluctant to leave the little thing behind for too long.  
  
“He’ll miss me,” Hiccup had insisted. “I can’t leave him on his own.”  
  
“He’ll be fed and looked after,” Astrid had pointed out. “Toothless can survive without you, you know.”  
  
Hiccup’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t trust the neighbours. They don’t understand him.”  
  
Astrid shook her head and gave up trying to argue. There was no winning against Hiccup when Toothless was concerned.  
  
It didn’t change much. They still talked pretty much every day.  
  
“Okay, right, you want to know what I’ve been doing tonight?!” Hiccup yells down the phone.  
  
They’ve got a video call going. Astrid’s lying on the bed she’s had since childhood – a single. She hadn’t realised how much she enjoyed sleeping in a double until she’d had come back home. She’s clutching her phone between her fingers, trying to stifle a giggle.  
  
“This little shit,” Hiccup says, whipping the phone around and pointing the camera at Toothless. “Decided to shit all over my floor. All over my fucking floor.”  
  
She presses her hand over her mouth, her eyes scrunching together to try and keep herself from laughing.  
  
Something about Hiccup swearing always fills Astrid with glee. He isn’t usually one for profanity – unlike her; she swears like an old man – but every now and then, he’ll let it rip.  
  
“Are you happy? Are you fucking happy?” he yells down at the cat.  
  
Toothless seems unconcerned, sitting and licking his paw, quite relaxed.  
  
Hiccup gives a long, dramatic sigh. “No. Of course you don’t. You don’t fucking care.” He throws his hands up in the air, almost dropping his phone as he does so. “So now I’m here, spending my evening disinfecting these fucking floors because apparently, you don’t know what a fucking litter box is!”  
  
Astrid’s curled up right now, one hand clasped across her face as she tries to stop herself from laughing, tears streaming down her face. It’s no use. She drops her hand and throws back her head, letting out one of those ungodly laughs that she hates, the kind where she makes a sound like a dying animal. She splutters and tries to stop her shoulders from shaking, but she can’t stop herself, and starts laughing again.  
  
“Oh, I get it, no sympathy from you either,” Hiccup says. He’s turned the phone around and she can see his face again, and his indignant expression only makes her laugh more.  
  
Once she’s finally got herself together, she wipes tears away from her eyes and sees Hiccup smiling at her through the phone.  
  
“I love your laugh,” he says.  
  
“I sound like a tortured seal.”  
  
“Yeah. I love it.”  
  
And then she’s laughing again.

* * *

When Astrid arrives back at university, it’s not long before Hiccup shows up. In fact, she’d barely had any time to get out the car before he made an appearance.  
  
“How was the drive? Did you make enough stops? You didn’t get sick, did you?”  
  
Astrid laughs, and waves him off. “Fine, Hiccup. Just long. Made plenty of stops. No, I didn’t get sick.”  
  
She closes her car door and wanders around to the boot. Going home had made her realise that there were a lot of things that she had missed when she hadn’t had them at university. So, she had packed everything up and brought it back with her.  
  
There are thee boxes loaded up in the back of the car, all huge and waiting to unpacked. Astrid grabs the box on the top of the pile and heaves it over towards her flat, leaving it by the front door.  
  
“Do you need any help with those?” Hiccup says when she arrives back at the car.  
  
She snorts.  
  
“What?”  
  
“Well, Hiccup,” she says, trying to hide a grin. “Speaking as someone who really cares about you. You are clever, talented, wonderful person. But you have noodle arms. You are not strong. You won’t be able to lift this box.”  
  
Hiccup pouts. “I could lift this box.”  
  
“Hiccup, no.”  
  
“I could!”  
  
“If you say so.”  
  
Hiccup rolls his sleeves up and takes a big step towards the back of the car. Astrid covers her smile with her hand.  
  
He reaches up and gets a grip on the box, his face red with concentration. He tugs. He heaves. Nothing happens. The box slides down from its tower and crashes onto the floor.  
Astrid splutters. Hiccup glares at her.  
  
“It slipped,” he says.  
  
“Of course it did.”  
  
Hiccup bends down to pick the box up off the floor. He tries to pull it up again and again, but the best he can do is push it along the floor.  
  
“Okay,” he says, red in the face and panting. “I can’t lift this box.”  
  
Astrid laughs, and effortlessly picked up the box and took it to the door. “You tried, Hiccup,” she says. “You tried.”

* * *

**Astrid 18:07**  
_ok. you were right.  
_  
**Heather 18:10**  
_usually am. about what?_  
  
**Astrid 18:12**  
_Hiccup.  
_  
**Heather 18:13**  
_Oh. ;)_  
  
It’s snowing outside. Astrid and Hiccup are cuddled up on the sofa, Astrid’s legs resting atop Hiccup’s, her feet warm in fuzzy socks. They’ve connected one of their laptops to the television, and let a loop of a log fire crackle, because in his student flat certainly doesn’t have a real one. It’s a fine substitute, actually, Astrid thinks it’s just as comforting.  
Astrid lets her head loll against Hiccup’s, enjoying his warmth.  
  
“Hey, Astrid?” Hiccup says, his voice soft.  
  
“Yeah?”  
  
“You know, I really…” he says, his voice trailing off as he yawns. “I really love you.”  
  
Astrid’s heart swells, and she breaks out into a smile, nuzzling her face into Hiccup’s and pressing a kiss to his hair. “I know,” she says, because how could she not know? “I love you too.”  
  
She snuggles down and wraps her arms around him. Hiccup loves her. She can’t stop herself from smiling as she wonders why she ever thought he didn’t. She sends a triumphant text to Heather and settles down with her head on Hiccup’s chest, feeling like she’s walking on air. In her head, she thinks back through all of the events of the past few months, trying not to grin like a Cheshire cat.  
  
Hiccup loves her.


End file.
